POV Lucian

Binge-watching videos about your ex is probably not the healthiest way to move on from a breakup. In my defense, I had subscribed to a classical dance channel on YouTube a few months ago to learn more about ballet in general. Now, I receive daily recommendations about the latest news in the industry, including this interview that Akhyra did recently to reveal things about her traumatic childhood to the press.

It made me so proud of her to see how much Akhyra has grown and how far she's come, finally overpowering her demons. When she stood up to shake hands with the host of the show, my throat tightened, and tears threatened to fall.

"Are you watching videos of cats getting adopted?" my sister asks, bringing me back to reality.

"Guilty," I lie smoothly as I put the phone back in my pocket. She knows about my weakness for anything related to cats and doesn't see through my deceit.

"Come on, we're supposed to be having fun! You can't be looking all depressed next to me. People will think I forced you to come here."

"Well, you did force me," I answer with a pointed glance at the humongous cotton candy she's devouring.

"I did this for your own benefit, actually. Moping around about your ex-girlfriend the day before a big match can't be good for your spirits."

"So you've decided that coming to an amusement park was the perfect cure to lift my mood?"

"Of course!" She grins at me. "Aren't you lucky to have me in your life? Don't answer. We both know you are."

As she breaks out into a self-satisfied giggle, I can't help the affectionate smile spreading on my lips. When she suggested that we go out earlier, I was surprised to learn that Akhyra had assigned Carper as my sister's driver for the whole day. We came here driven in a fancy black SUV, and Maëlla uploaded a selfie on Instagram with the caption: "In my celebrity era!"

"What do you want to try first?" I ask as we look around at the several attractions.

"Let's do the merry-go-round!" she exclaims with enthusiasm, pointing toward the rotating kiosk of pastel-colored ponies.

The vibrant colors of the amusement park surround us, a kaleidoscope of flashing lights and cheerful music filling the air. The scent of caramel popcorn and freshly spun cotton candy mixes with the summer breeze, creating an aroma that smells of youthful dreams and adventures. Children run past us, their laughter echoing like a symphony of joy, while parents attempt to keep up, their faces a mix of exhaustion and happiness.

We make our way through the crowds, passing a group of teenagers laughing as they take pictures in front of a giant Ferris wheel. The bright sunlight reflects off the metallic structures of the rides, giving the entire park a surreal, almost magical feel.

"Remember that summer we spent in the Dominican Republic?" Maëlla aks. "When we visited an amusement park, you were scared of the Ferris wheel. That was hilarious!" She teases, nudging me with her elbow. "You practically cried the first time we went on it."

"I did not cry," I protest, rolling my eyes. "I was just being cautious. It's a perfectly normal reaction to being suspended fifty feet in the air in a rickety metal cage."

"Sure, let's go with that," she says with a smirk.

We arrive at the merry-go-round, and Maëlla bounces on her toes with excitement. "Come on, big brother, let's pick our steeds!"

I laugh as we climb onto the spinning platform. She chooses a pink pony with a golden mane while I settle for a more understated white horse. The ride starts, and we're gently pulled into a whimsical whirl of painted horses and twinkling lights. Maëlla's eyes sparkle with childlike delight, and I find myself relaxing for the first time in days.

"You know, you should really listen to your little sister more often," she says, giving me a sideways glance. "I have a lot of good ideas."

"Is that so? Like what?" I challenge.

"Like making some stupidly big romantic gesture to get Akhyra back," she replies firmly.

"Yeah, we're not doing that."

"Why not? Don't tell me you're scared of rejection," she scolds. "You're Lucian Moreno for crying out loud. You've faced tougher opponents on the field."

I chuckle. "This conversation is over, Genius."

She reaches over and squeezes my hand. "When you cry yourself to sleep tonight, just remember that I offered to help."

When the merry-go-round slows to a stop, we step off, slightly dizzy but grinning. Maëlla wants to go for a second ride, but I decide to sit this one out and get her another ticket. She leaves her phone with me so I can take pictures and record her while she's having fun.

When she comes off, she checks to see how well I did with my task as a photographer. Once she's reviewed them all with a satisfied expression, my sister informs me that there's a letter for me in her cute crochet backpack. She wrote it inside her bullet journal.

As Maëlla walks away toward the next attraction that caught her interest, I choose a spot nearby to sit down. As instructed, I open to the page where the bookmark is and begin to read.

My dearest brother,

I've been wanting to have this conversation with you for a while. Somehow, the right time never presented itself. But if I'm being honest, the real reason I couldn't find the words beforehand was that I still hadn't reached the level of growth I needed to.

However, as I'm sitting on this plane now, flying to see you represent our country in such a prestigious international competition, I realize that if there's a proper time to have this discussion, it's right now. Before you step onto the field, and the pressure to bring this cup back home becomes even heavier than it already is.

There's something I like to say to you when we're bickering, and I'm pretty sure that by the time I meet you there, I will have said it at least once. I often joke that you're lucky to have me as a sister. And while we both agree that I make your life better—I'm super funny, smart enough to make you brag about having a genius in your family, and will probably take care of you in your old age when you're like forty and retire from football—but I digress.

I believe it's the other way around. I'm the one who's lucky to have you as a big brother. And before you start disagreeing, I'm going to list some of the MANY reasons why I'm right (by the way, in case you forgot, I'm always right).

One of the sweetest memories I have of you is shortly after Dad passed away in that horrible earthquake. I was only five years old then, so my memory is fuzzy about a lot of things, but there's something I'll never forget. We used to receive those humanitarian food kits, and I'd have a hard time eating whatever was in there because it tasted horrible to me.

You decided to share your own pack of pudding with me every time as a reward if I ate what I was given. You told me back then that you were allergic to chocolate, and that's why you never ate yours, but later, I found out through Mom that you had no allergies. Of course, I loved eating your portions, so I never called you out on your little white lie.

Fast forward a couple of years, when I became old enough to start having crushes on boys, I remember I came to you for advice. Back then, you had told me something that I've used as a blueprint to gauge my interactions with guys ever since.

You told me that if I had to go out of my way to try and guess if a guy liked me, then he probably didn't put in much effort to let me know. In this case, it was not my job to try to accommodate his lack of communication. You told me that someone who genuinely liked and wanted to pursue me would let me know without playing games.

You might not have realized how life-changing this was for me. But let me tell you something: this saved me a lot of potential wasted time in having crushes that would only ever remain that, and it certainly did prevent me from catering to this weird trend at school where girls tried to find out what their crush was obsessed with and invent a whole new personality based on it. And even when I did get the emotional heartbreak that a hormonal teenager is always bound to get, you've always helped me through it.

Long story short, in my opinion, you've helped in more than one way when it comes to my relationship with the opposite gender.

Now, that being said, despite how much we would all want to protect our loved ones from harm, unfortunately, it's not always the case.

In life, bad things—horrible experiences—aren't always a byproduct of not being looked after. It hurts me that you've defined yourself by what happened to me when you so clearly don't want me to define myself by it. You think you've failed me and that you're in part responsible, and I wish you could feel what a torture it is that someone whom I look up to and love so much could not see himself the same way I see you.

You are my blueprint for almost everything about stepping into adulthood. I look up to you when it comes to being resilient about overcoming the challenges in life.

I look to you whenever I want to be reminded that it is possible to still shine despite the darkness of the past.

And I look to you whenever I want to count all the blessings in my life because you're most definitely one of them.

Do you remember the day we found that old soccer ball, patched up and worn out, lying forgotten in the corner of the playground? We spent hours kicking it around, laughing and dreaming of the future. Those moments shaped us, taught us to find joy in the simplest things, and never let go of hope. It's this spirit, this indomitable will to push forward and find happiness that you instilled in me.

You always stood as my shield against the world's harshness, your shoulders bearing more than a child should. The times you went without to ensure I had enough, the nights you stayed awake by my bedside when I was scared, whispering stories of brave heroes and resilient hearts to lull me to sleep. It's those sacrifices, those silent acts of love, that have carved my admiration for you so deeply into my heart.

Life hasn't always been kind to us, but through every storm, you have been my constant. Your strength, compassion, and unwavering support are the pillars that hold me up. As I watch you now, standing on the cusp of achieving a dream that's not just yours but ours, I am overwhelmed with pride and gratitude.

And now, as you prepare to step onto that field, I want you to carry this same belief. Know that you deserve every bit of happiness coming your way. You've worked hard, sacrificed, and given so much of yourself. You've earned this moment, and no one deserves it more.

I want you to know that your happiness means the world to me. Just as much as you want me to find joy and fulfillment in life, I want the same for you. You've been my protector, my guide, my hero, and now it's time for you to embrace the happiness that you so freely give to others.

As you chase that ball down the field, remember the dreams we built together. Let every kick, every pass, every goal be a testament to your strength, your resilience, and your boundless spirit. Know that I am here, cheering you on, just as you've always done for me.

I love you, Lucian. You are my hero, my rock, and my greatest inspiration. Go out there and shine because you deserve all the happiness and success in the world.

With all my love,

Lucemaëlla , your little sister (who's the lucky one)

It's only when I finish reading that I notice the smudged ink from what must have been wet little spots from her tears. Mines are streaming down my face silently. I have to take a moment to collect myself, burying my face behind my hands. I feel Maëlla sit down next to me without having to look up. She wraps an arm around me, and for the second time today, I let myself fall into her comforting embrace.

Once I'm certain that my voice won't shake, I speak. "Let's settle this argument for good. We're both lucky, alright?"

She lets out a breathy chuckle that makes the sun shining down on us feel much warmer. "I'll agree if you promise one thing."

"What is it?"

"That you'll finally bring your ass to therapy."

"Deal."

In that moment, as I'm holding onto one of the most important people in my life, the deathly grip of guilt that had been holding me captive for so many years unwraps itself one skeletal finger at a time.